Personal Narrative: Growing Up As A Vietnamese-American

As a proud second generation Vietnamese American, I proudly associate myself with my Catholic Vietnamese community. Like all members in my group, we are indoctrinated with the typical immigrant values of perseverance, freedom, and respect for others and our cultural identity. The church that binds us together, Our Lady of Lavang, is the center where most of the Catholic Vietnamese Community gathers all over West Michigan. Since the 1st grade, I went through the Church's school program every Sunday to learn about Christian moral values, Vietnamese traditions, and language. These lessons has heavily influenced my outlook on life, enabling me to use faith to build confidence with myself, maintain integrity, and to love and respect every individual.

I am a first generation Asian American and my life began when my father was 18 years old. From China with basically the clothes on his back, he traveled across the sea to the United States, the dreamland, all in the hope of a better future. He worked endlessly with few days off to provide for his family and continue to do so today, which only allowed me to see him one day a week at the most. He told me that's the burden he has to bear so I can have an easier life, working in a job I like. My mother's life story doesn't differ much from my father's with the only major distinction being that it centered around my life. She wake up 5 in the morning to cook my lunch for school and to become my personal chauffeur. If I need her, she is there. Since

I’m Vietnamese, but I cannot speak the language. Both of my grandparents are immigrants who came to Vietnam after the war. My dad was born in Vietnam and my mother was born in Louisiana. All of them speaks fluent Vietnamese, but only my mother speaks English. Growing up, it became harder and harder for me to communicate with my family in a sense that they did not know what I was saying and vice versa. Granted, I went to a Vietnamese school when I was younger but later dropped out once my family became busy with life.

January 1st, 2001, I was born to be first. Two hours before I was delivered, the University of Washington came first in the Rose Bowl. Being born on such a good day, my parents believed I was a lucky baby. They became convinced that I would have amazing fortune in the future and would come first in all competitions and trials life had for me. However, being first also meant I’d be the first one to face obstacles.

When I first got put in the challenge program I was very scared. I only knew a handful of people and I didn’t know if it was the best fit for me. However, the past 4 years have proven me wrong. I would have been bored and in challenge when you have teachers like Mrs. Miller and Mrs. Hill, you wonder why you questioned yourself.

I was born and raised in Texas where everything is Texas sized and everyone says y'all. I am an Asian American whose parents both came from Vietnam at a young age. I was soon to be molded and developed by them and my community to where I became culturally diverse. I was moved along schools which helped me build character. I also have developed into a very athletic and intelligent person due to all my friends and family helping me to reach this state.

One day in 7th grade at 6th block it was almost time for Eogs to begin actually they were the following monday and i was talking to natalie.Mr.Clark was talking about something that really bored me ,so talking to natalie was pretty much my only option.I really should of payed attention but you know it was almost the end of the year and no one really payed attention.He wanted us to take notes so i pulled out a bunch of paper.Everybody kept asking me for paper so i got very annoyed.

It all started in February of 2003 when the Commander in Chief, Jeorge W. Hush initiated the threats against Saddam Hussein. It was my first unit, the first time I got to experience what the “real” Army was like outside of a training environment. We were the “The Deuce,” 542nd Maintenance Company. Things were hectic leading up to this point, and we’ve done a lot of training within our units. We were ready for war, or so we thought. All we had to do was fly.

Silence and darkness loomed over the room. Other than the occasional snore and bed creak, the room is silent, oblivious to the war that is being fought in Vietnam. Men are being ripped apart; their innards mercilessly pierced by the multitude of rounds penetrating through the air. One wrong move and suddenly, you’re soaking red, staining the garment around your torso and cementing your fate. But in this room, we were oblivious to such pains, such bloodshed. It was like if the war wasn’t even happening at all, isolating us from the pain and the death that would ultimately be subjected upon us. One of these days, we were going to be deployed, with almost ninety percent certainty that we would never see our families again. Ah, fuck it! I joined

Upon arriving to theater, the news spread out quick that one of our engineer platoons was hit

One day a boy name Matt got a game called Fortnite, but he fought it the ground and the front of the box destroy this at all cost, so he brought it home being stupid and start and second he start it play a light, and he disappeared. When Matt woke he was in a strange land where everything look weird, and Matt realizes he in the game. Matt knew how to play a bit he thought so he got on the bus a went to Tilted Towers, and fought a pump and bandages. Then the run from his life.

I first got into the war when I was in my 20’s. I started training and knew this was what I wanted to do. I wanted to help my country and make it a safer place. I had worked hard and got my spot in the army. Lots of people have asked if I have killed someone before. I just say no because I don't like to get into detail. But, the truth I have killed a lot of people.

I wish that there was a cure for the war, and I wish that time could freeze and no more innocent people could be suffering or put in anymore graveyards.

I could feel the warmth from the sun hugging my skin, I took a sip of my cold drink as the ice touched my lips. My feet were deep in the sand as i heard the waves crash on the beach. I realized that this was the first time that i had been alone with peace and quietness. We were scheduled to move out in two days. I never thought that the war would be so vicious and painful. Back in New York all they said was that you would be back in two months crowned a hero. This was my second year deployed, my platoon was deep into Vietcong territory. We had fought through jungles, rice paddies and quicksand. Most of us hated everything about this god forsaken country. Before two years ago I had never heard of Vietnam, most of us wouldn't have been able to

It is not easy to define culture because culture is too broad a concept, can be both abstract and specific. However, what is agreed is culture covers all faces of our life as well as direct the way we behave, interact and communicate. (Liu et al., 2011). One popular definition is that “Culture is the total way of life of a group of people, comprising of the deposit of knowledge, experience, belief, values, traditions, religion, and notion of time, roles, spatial relations, worldviews, material objects and geographic territory”. (Liu et al., 2011, p.57). In this essay, I will analyse components and characteristics of culture, and based on that grounds, I will reflect on my own culture-being a Vietnamese. Dodd (1998) considered that culture is made up by three layers which consist of the core layer, the intermediate layer and the outer layer. I will examine what values and beliefs are considered important in my culture. Those are components of the inner core. Then, I will take some examples of the intermediate layer (expression of cultural activities by manifestation) such as communication patterns, customs and festivals.